Paper Flowers
by astral-angel
Summary: Stacy muses on her life...Stacy-Shane McMahon. Standalone Fic.


Paper Flowers 

**WWE  
  
**

**Disc: **None of the characters you recognize belong to me. 

**Rating: **PG

**Pairing: **Stacy/Shane McMahon

**Notes: **Ya know, this wasn't even on the list of challenges I thought I might answer. No idea where it came from. It's a response to one of Angie's challenges.

- Stacy/Shane McMahon – anything you want. Just want to see these two together.

Hope it works for ya Angie…not quite a romance, but yeah…just read it.

Part 1/1 

The diva sat down slowly, her long legs curling underneath her. Her shoulder length blonde hair framed her heart shaped face, the pale yellow sundress she had on emphasizing her slim form. Stacy Kiebler would have made quite a striking picture if her face hadn't borne such a desolate expression, or her eyes hadn't been puffy and red from the multitude of tears she'd cried in the last week.

She sighed, an ache settling in her heart. Her long limbs felt dull and heavy – almost lifeless. She stared at her hands unseeingly, her mind wandering. Stacy wasn't sure when things had changed so much, why they had changed so much. It seemed like one minute she'd been in a happy, loving relationship, and the next she was nothing but a prize to be won, a possession to be taken…a toy to be played with. And damnit, she was no man's toy.

Hot, burning shame filled the blonde, the memory of being forced to give Steven Richards and Rico a lap dance. God, how could Andrew have ever claimed to love her when he'd reduced her to nothing but a cheap play toy… The things he'd said to her, all the names he'd called her. Whoever had made up the rhyme 'sticks and stones' obviously had never been called a slut, a whore, a fuck toy.

Stacy shuddered, bile rising in her throat at the things he'd made her do. And Scott wasn't much better. He claimed to love her, to care for her, but hell, everyone knew he was originally in it for the sex. And then it just became a matter of pride. He'd never cared about her, just pretended and, fool that she was, she'd believed him.

Tears filled her eyes, trickling down her cheeks in glistening streams. Frowning, she hastily wiped them away, blinking rapidly in the hope that it might make the tears go away. Sighing, she stood up, her head rising, only to stare directly into warm brown eyes.

"It's not right…" He told her, his assessing gaze raking over her face, frowning when he caught sight of the faint tear tracks. His eyes darkened when he noticed the fear that sparked in her eyes.

"Wh…what's not right?" Stacy asked him, hating the fact that she stuttered, hated the fact that she was afraid. Even back when she was in WCW, Shane McMahon had been nothing but nice to her, and here she was, almost shaking.

The dark-haired man shifted, his hand reaching up to brush away last remnants of tears away from her cheek. Stacy shivered slightly at the contact, her eyes wide. He quickly pulled his hand away, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

"Sorry about that…" He muttered before his searching gaze found hers again, his earlier expression returning. "What they're doing to you – it's not right."

Stacy's eyes widened further at his statement. He would have to be the first person to express an opinion about what was going on. "Don't you think I know that?" She asked him, and then regretted the hostility in her voice. For his part, Shane just replied, his expression gentle, yet serious.

"I think that you know more about life than you should have to." His dark eyes locked with hers, the soft chocolate tones letting butterflies loose in her stomach. Her mouth opened, and then closed again, his statement leaving her slightly bewildered.

He gave a start, his mouth forming a small 'o'. She watched, confused, as he brought his other hand out from behind his back, the bright shades of the flowers in his hand making her blink. 

She looked at him questioningly, the sheepish look on his face making her heart flutter. 

"Uh, you looked like you needed some cheering up…so, uh, I made you these…" He thrust the bouquet into her slim hands, his words making the divas eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Made?" She looked down at the flowers in her hand, and for the first time realized that they weren't normal flowers. Long green pipe cleaners formed the stems, soft yellow tissue paper perfectly sculpted into small roses.

"Uh, well, uh, I figured that real roses would die a lot faster than these would, so…" Here he trailed off, an unreadable expression coming to his face. 

"Shane, they're beautiful…thank you." She said softly, a smile curving her lips. Shane smiled in response.

"I'm glad you like them." He looked at her, his gaze assessing, before continuing. "It was nice talking to you Stacy…" He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, and then walked away, leaving Stacy behind, clutching the flowers in one hand, her other raised to her cheek in shock.

**End 1/1**


End file.
